So I get to the office and I am the ONLY ONE in the waiting room. I check in. I wait. The woman at the desk calls me over and nags me about an overdue bill. I tell her she's nuts. Pretty much in those words, too. We have a PPO and a $15 copay. She's waxing psychotic over a $222 balance. I tell her she's gonna have to figure it out because I have every receipt from every visit for the last five years in my purse because I know how skanky their bookkeeping is. LOL!
She glares. She pokes the receipts. She grumbles. I look at her face and see that the muscles in her face are in a permanent frown position. I wonder if the smile muscles have atrophied. She wants me to leave the receipts with her. I laugh. She says she needs them. I say I need them more and she can make copies while I watch, if she likes. She says she doesn't have time for that. I say I don't have time to wait around for a supposedly double-booked doctor, but that we all do what we must.
I gather up my receipts, shove them in my Beadgirl bag :-) and start reading a magazine article about which young stars have had plastic surgery.
Amazingly, my name is called. I go back. Get weighed (ugh.). The nurse talks to me, then scolds me about not calling 911. She does an EKG. Doc comes in mere minutes later. I do love the doc, and that's why I put up with his antediluvian office protocol.
He scolds me, then says we're going to do a chest x-ray to rule out blood clots in my lungs or something. Then he says I need to see a cardiologist ASAP. He faxes the consult request to them while I wait. He tells me to take it easy. "No. Seriously Deb. I mean take it easy. Not YOUR version of take it easy. I mean really take it easy, ok?"
I get my flu shot. He writes me up some Rx refills and a couple of new ones. Tells me to quit smoking. Again. We set a follow-up appointment for the
16th.
And that is all I know. That and the fact that I am really glad to be home.